The Cookie Catastrophe
by CrestfallenCatharsis
Summary: When Soul leaves a batch of cookies in the oven for too long, could there be life-threatening consequences? For SoMa Week 2017! -Oneshot-


**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any of its characters-they belong to Atsushi Okubo. SoMa Week Day 2: Family.**

 **XxX**

Everything was normal. It was like any other day: the sun was out, the birds screamed endlessly, and the house was so hot it was like the devil himself rose from hell right in their kitchen. Wait, that's not right.

"Soul! The cookies!" she hollered as she ran into the room. Smoke emanated from the oven, filling the space and making her cough into the crook of her elbow. Just then, the fire alarm went off.

"Crap!" Soul shouted as he rushed in. He immediately pulled her by her shoulders out of the room, her coughing becoming more intense by the second. Next, he covered his mouth and nose with his shirt and dove into the smoke. A moment later, the sound of the fire extinguisher hit her ears, followed by a pan clattering on the counter. Soul came out of the kitchen and removed the fabric from his face, coughing.

"Are you okay?" Maka asked as he walked up to her.

"Yeah," he rasped, a coughing fit interrupting him. "Stupid cookies."

"You know cookies don't actually catch on fire, right?" she questioned, pointing to the extinguisher still in his hand. "They just get all black and burned."

Soul blinked, looked down at the red object in his grasp, then back at her before replying, "Oh."

"I thought you said you set an alarm on your phone," Maka accused.

"I did! Or, I thought I did," the white-haired man said as he began to pat the pockets of his shorts. When he came up empty, he cursed.

"I left my phone in the bathroom," he mumbled. Maka pinched her nose between two fingers. She and Soul made their way to the stairs. Maka marched up them while Soul dragged behind, afraid of what she might do. Sure enough, as they got closer to the bathroom, the faint sound of an alarm was heard. She slapped the door open and snatched the phone from the vanity, hitting the button to turn off the sound before handing it back to its owner.

"Idiot," she snapped at him. "She's going to be so mad at us."

"Yeah, I know," he said, grimacing. He sighed, ran his fingers through his hair, and plopped down on the toilet seat cover. "What are we going to tell her?"

"'We'? _You_ are going to tell her the truth: that you're a moron who messed up her cookies," Maka chided, crossing her arms over her chest. Soul glared at her for a moment before accepting defeat.

"Let's at least open up some windows down there, and turn off that God awful fire alarm," he grumbled as he got up from the toilet. Maka nodded and they returned to the kitchen. Soul grabbed a chair from the dining room and brought it into the room, where he set it down on the tile floor and stepped onto it so he could reach the screeching white circle on the ceiling. He hit the button and everything was silent once again. They both let out a breath of relief. However, just as Maka opened up the second window, the sound of a door slamming shut caused them to suck it in again.

"Quick, throw out the cookies!" Maka whisper-yelled to Soul. He jumped from the chair and ran to where he threw them on the counter. He grabbed the still-hot tray and let out a yelp, which Maka threw a pointer finger in front of her mouth to shush. She had picked up a wad of papers and was fanning the smoke smell out of the house through an opened window.

"Hello? Is anyone home?" a voice called out. Maka and Soul looked at each other with sheer panic. Soul dumped the black discs into the garbage can and tossed the tray into the sink while Maka fanned even faster.

"Oh, hey. There you are," the voice said as the owner of it walked into the kitchen. It was an eight year old girl.

"Hey, Misu. How was school?" Soul questioned, standing in front of the oven in the most nonchalant manner he could. Maka stood with the papers behind her back, a too-wide smile spread across her face.

"Um, fine," Misu responded. She tugged at the shoulder strap of her bright blue backpack. She stared them each down with her red eyes, suspicion written on her face. "What's going on?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing, dear," Maka replied. "How did your field trip go?"

"It was fun. What's that smell?" she asked, her nose lifting in the air and sniffing. Soul and Maka exchanged worried glances.

"Well, I thought it was a nice day for a fire in the pit outside," Maka lied. "Why don't you tell us about your trip?"

Misu, however, said nothing. Instead, she put her hands on her hips and blew her blonde bangs out of her eyes, giving them a look that sent shivers up both of their spines. She sauntered over to Soul, looking him up and down, then to Maka. She placed her chin between her thumb and pointer finger and leaned in closer to the woman, eyes squinting. Nodding once, she backed away and faced them both.

"Family doesn't lie to each other, right, Mom and Dad?" Misu scolded. Soul gulped, looking to his wife for help. She, on the other hand, had different plans.

"Your father burned your cookies," she blurted.

"What?" Misu shouted.

"Maka, what the heck?" Soul yelled at her. Misu stomped up to her father. Sweat poured down his back as she sent him a death glare.

"You promised to make cookies for my friend's birthday tomorrow," she spoke in an even, low tone. Soul laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact with the angered girl. It figures she'd inherit her mother's intense, terrifying rage.

"I-I can go buy some after work tonight," Soul nearly pleaded with her. He finally looked her in the eye, only to find tiny flames within their crimson irises. Cookies may not catch fire, but their daughter sure could if she wanted to.

"That's not the same," Misu insisted.

"H-How about you and I make another batch while your dad is gone?" Maka suggested. Soul looked at her as if she were an angel on Earth.

"Okay," Misu agreed, her entire demeanor switching to that of an innocent little girl once again. She skipped out of the kitchen, pigtails flopping up and down as she went. When she turned the corner and was out of sight, Maka and Soul let out a simultaneous breath, realizing they'd been holding it during the entirety of that interaction.

"You know, maybe one of the most powerful weapon-meister partners having a child wasn't such a smart idea, in hindsight," Soul said, sliding to the floor. Maka smirked, then joined him in front of the stove.

"Yeah, or maybe one of the most powerful Death Scythes shouldn't be such a nimrod and mess up his child's food," she lectured.

"Shut up," he wined. "Just help me clean this up."

Maka grabbed a washcloth from the sink and ran it under the faucet. Soul opened up the oven to reveal a mess of white foam-like substance covering the interior. He took the cloth from his wife and got to work.

"You really should learn how to take better care of your family," Maka spoke as she began to exit the room. "Especially with a new member on the way."

"Yeah," he sighed, then his eyes widened. "Wait, what?"


End file.
